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Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Twenty Years and A Day

As of today, I have known my husband for more than half of my life. 

Twenty years ago (and a day) I was twenty years old and still depressed over breaking up with my high school sweetheart. My friends Gillian and Sari convinced me to come with them to this party at the Opera House in Toronto to cheer me up... and maybe also because we were currently attending Western U in London, ON and I was the only one with a car who could drive into Toronto.

A few minutes into the party, Sari's ex-boyfriend (whom I'd never met) came over to say hi. We locked eyes and I know it sounds like a cliché but from that moment on, I truly don't remember there being anyone else in the room. And even though we only talked for a few minutes and he had some really weird pickup lines and he didn't take down my number or even really know my last name, I just had a feeling there was something special about this guy.

I was right. There was. And still is.

Twenty years ago (and a day) I met the man who instead of flowers, brought me a dozen Bagel World bagels on our first date.
I met the man who would buy me a ticket to France just because he wanted to go to France and he thought it would be more fun with me there.
I met the man who drove to Detroit and back during a snowstorm for my engagement ring.
I met the man who, on the night my son was born via emergency C-section, never once let on that he was scared because he knew how terrified I was and he knew I needed him to be strong enough for both of us.
I met the man who let me change our daughter's name when she was 5 months old because I thought she looked more like a Maya than an Ellie.
I met the man who put me through Teacher's College when at the age of 30 I decided to go back to school.
I met the man who fought with me and for me when most other men would've given up.
I met the man who takes out the garbage, shovels the snow, cleans the pool, walks the dog, and checks for weird noises in the middle of the night... and all I have to do is make dinner.
I met the man who went through our photo albums until he found pictures of my babies that were small enough to fit into a tiny gold locket that he got me for Mother's Day.
I met the man who I communicate well enough with to be able to tag-team decorate our house in Florida via email, phone calls, and a fake wedding registry at Target.
I met the man who took my kids to see Avatar just so I could spend 3 hours alone at the mall.
I met the man who I could travel to Morocco with and while there, get violently ill, lose our luggage, almost miss our flight, and be wandering around tired and hungry in 46 degree heat and not only not bicker about it, but laugh about it.

Twenty years ago (and a day) I met the love of my life. I met my husband.

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